Phala Phala Toe

 Dear Mr President

The Phala Phala saga keeps raising its long-horned head.

I am sure that you are familiar with the line of a well-known song: 'skop hom na die pale toe' (kick him / it to the posts).

Sir it is time that we skop this Phala Phala matter to the posts. Amid all the accusations flying like distressed hadedas, what is needed is a clear-headed, dispassionate, objective, unbiased, impartial approach. 

I wish to assist and support you as I have done (unasked) for Mr Zuma, Doctor Ace, Mr Malema and many of our other heroes. Far be  it from me to play  the hard-done-by  martyr,   but  I must comment  that nary a word of thanks  have I received. Even KFC, wretched ingrates, have failed to supply the meanest of shrivelled drumsticks in gratitude for the many mentions. I trust that things will be different  with you. 

I want to couch this respectfully. If you did indeed store dollars in the recesses of a La-Z-Boy recliner, that was a serious error of judgement. At boarding school we would place our long pants under the mattress for a good, if unconventional, ironing. Everyone knows that mattresses are far better suited to this sort of thing. Those benjamins would have emerged crisp and neatly ironed. No one could then accuse you of being involved in funny money business. And while this is money ironing it is certainly not money laundering. 

I  believe that the lack of clarity around this business is fuelling the rumour-mongering, speculation and flinging about of conspiracy theories. Let us take an example from the former national police commissioner who laid out this beautifully succinct explanation for his alleged unavailability during the July unrest:

"It may not be wrong, but it is not true."

He went on to explain that people may have been looking him in places where he was not. Had they looked for him in places where he was, they would have found him.

Wonderfully clear and simple, yet with a zen-like, mystical layer of hidden meaning.

Sir, I suggest that we issue a similarly clear, crisp message in order to put a stop to the confusion. My first draft:

1 My people sold some Ankole cattle, which, as you know, are sought-after worldwide for their superior milk,  meat and hides. 

2. They were en route to the banking halls, (the people, not the cattle), to deposit the money,  when the VBS catastrophe came to mind. (Some members of the EFF may be happy to expand further on that unhappy episode). 

3. My people wisely turned back and used the alternative, tried and trusted sofa banking approach.

4. I admit  that it was a lapse of judgement to have used a sofa instead of a mattress. For that I apologize to the nation as well as to illegal immigrants.

There you are sir. Clear logical, chronological. Many of our heroes of the revolution and the liberation struggle are champing at the bit as they wait for their own interesting adventures and ventures to be investigated or analysed or tried in a court of law. (Please note, not 'chomping', as is often said, though some may well be chomping at other stuff with gusto). Those waiting may include Mr Zuma,  Doctor Ace, Ms Sisulu and many others who fought valiantly for justice, equity and truth. 

Sir you have been holding up the queue. However, now that we have set out the sequence of events in transparent, 

logical order, we can move on. Would it be Mr Zuma's turn next, perhaps?

Yours in the struggle for clarity, transparency and a nice, medium-rare Ankole fillet.

Richard  

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

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